


but it was okay

by charons_boat



Series: hello strange place, strange time, strange dream [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Antique Shops, Deception, Emotionally Distant Parents, Family Heirlooms, Fluff, Gods, Is this a meet Cute?, Little bit of angst, M/M, Marriage, Meet-Cute, Multi, Uncaring parents, Worshippers, god of divine connection, god of wishes, inspiration partially from back door, modern setting contrasting with nature, old belief, old shrines, oral legends, self doubt, the deception is resolved don't worry, they make up at the end, wandering & exploration, witch!hyunjin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29467338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charons_boat/pseuds/charons_boat
Summary: Jeongin was raised on stories of old gods and their promises. That childish belief has dimmed bit by bit, but he still wears the ancient talisman his grandmother gave him. There's a part of him that still believes; of course there is.
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin & Yang Jeongin | I.N, Kim Seungmin/Lee Minho | Lee Know/Yang Jeongin | I.N
Series: hello strange place, strange time, strange dream [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164404
Kudos: 3





	1. When I had journeyed half of our life's way,

**Author's Note:**

> hello! lossit... ur the reason i finsihed this at 12:30 am. i hope you all enjoy this! i have a lot more stories about old gods and their unknowing worshippers for u in the future ;) i said in the end notes of gold baejin, but i think i'll be allow requests for scenes on everything in this series! please refrain from requesting things with people outside those who've already been written tho... the ideas i already have span various groups and pairings ;-; (For example, changkyun/jungkook, yeonjun/taehyun, and winwin/junhee/yanan oooo) however! you can request things w the characters from each work interacting, and i'll see what i can do (mind it might not exactly be "canon" within the work, just like a fun, spin-off episode) but! again, i had fun writing this, and i hope you enjoy it!
> 
> chapter titles are english translations of dante's inferno!

There is a story that is no longer told, its time-worn words lost to days gone by. The elderly people on my street used to murmur phrases of it in my ears, when I was still young and didn't quite understand what their words meant. Now, their words echo in my ears in the darkness of night, stories weaving themselves in my dreams. I know somehow, intrinsically, that they aren't my own, that I'm not dreaming something unreal. I'm dreaming something that truly happened, something now lost to days gone by. 

I'm dreaming a legend. 

The legend starts with the first wish. It was asked of a cold, terrifying god, the only one who'd listen to the people. It was a simple, quiet wish for food, the woman who asked it sure the price would be almost too much to pay, and yet she knew already that she'd do anything to make sure her family was fed. And so she'd wished, ready to give herself and more if asked; anything, so long as her children would not starve and her husband could recover from his sickness. However, the imposing god asked very little of her. He walked into her dreams that night and asked only that she and her family worshipped him in any way they could. 

"I have no money to put at an altar. You know we have no food to burn for you. How could we worship you properly?" And he had only smiled and given her a kiss to her forehead, like a parent wishing luck to their child. 

"You need only thank me for your food. I will grant your wish of food and keep you fed, and in return I ask only that you do not forget me. I am not so greedy as other gods to ask for that which you cannot give." And he had left her, and they found in the morning that there was fresh, warm food spread over their table. It tasted better than anything they'd ever eaten before, and the thin woman made sure to take the hands of her family in thanking the god who'd given them food. Thereafter, every day until the last of her line died, they were fed by the god. It was the thin woman and her family that spread belief in the cold, gracious god.

For a great long while, the god went nameless; or, at the least, he was called by so many names that no single one could be reconciled as his own. There was one thing they all said when they called for him, though: "Help us, O' god," they would cry, "Our only pillar, the one guiding hand. We have so little to offer, but we will surely give our thanks." There were those who had tried to abandon him after getting their wishes; inevitably, they would find themselves locked into a deeper debt than they could imagine. The god was not so cruel as to carry the debt down generations, though. No, he would instead lock the debtors to the earth, so that even after death they were unable to rest until they'd given him his due. It was this that led to his role as the god of debts alongside wishes, the care of the living and the watch of the dead. Despite his namelessness, he was loved amongst the common people, for it was they who would stay true and reap the rewards of his generosity until their descendants had faded into nothing. The rich folk loved him less, for he was unforgiving when the wish-deals were broken and unrelenting in collecting his debts, and it was those in power and wealth who thought themselves able to outsmart this god so close to the earth. 

For so long, he'd been alone. But then, someone somewhere thought of a story. 

"There must be two gods," the excitable youth had said urgently, eyes wide and frantic as he struggled to find his place at the fire. It was the first time in a long while that anyone had told a new story, let alone one with two gods. The only god who was worshipped consistently in the area was that cold, gracious, nameless god. "There is our god of wishes and debts, of course," he'd said, "but there must be another! A bridge! The connection between us and him!" The idea had taken quickly, and people began to turn back to that first man, asking countless questions. 

"What is the second god like?" The chattering went silent as everyone waited for the answer with bated breath. 

"He is warm and gentle," the man said, spinning the threads of the tale on the spot. "He has kind, love-filled eyes; he loves us just as our cold god does." The people around the fire talked amongst themselves, considering the tidbit they'd been given. Someone turned back to face the man, staring across the fire. The old god sat in the old oak behind them, watching from a distance. He'd granted wishes to many of the families about the fire.

"What does this other god do, exactly?"

"He is the connection!" People nodded excitedly. "He makes it easier for the god to talk to us. He bridges the dreams and keeps us connected!"

"But _how_?" The man was silent for a moment, puzzling over it, searching for what fit. The god sat in the tree and turned his head to the side, looking at the young child who'd appeared beside him. 

"How do you help them," the god asked softly. They were both nameless, still, but the older had a feeling it wouldn't be long. The younger god continued to grow, a gradual thing still faster than the natural pace of time. He contemplated for a moment and kept his eyes focused on the man at the fire, whose eyes had finally lit up. 

"Talismans," the new god and the man at the fire said at the same time. The gods kept silent as the man continued. 

"He gives talismans to the people who worship! They make it easier for the people's prayers to reach the gods!" He hesitated for a moment as the people around the fire chattered excitedly once more. The young god furrowed his brows, barely an adult at that time, and the man at the fire reached into his pocket. He marveled over the item he pulled out, a four-pointed star carved of bone or some other white material. It was strung on a strip of leather, and he smiled down at it as he ran his thumb over its surface. When the cold god looked to his side, he saw for the first time a fond smile on the face of the softer god.

"My first worshipper," the god had whispered quietly, a sort of reverence about him. It was the kind that was usually reserved for mortals towards their gods. 

"And... does he have a name? Do they?" It was the first time anyone had ever thought to ask for the name of their god of wishes, and it set a curtain of silence over the group. The man was quiet for a long moment. 

"Seungmin," he had finally whispered. "The gentler god is named Seungmin." And Seungmin had nodded, pleased with his name. 

"Our old god... his name is Minho, isn't it," someone asked. It was a child, bright-eyed and chubby-cheeked. The man and Minho nodded at once. 

"Our pillars," the man murmured. It echoed through the crowd, a softness that collected into something louder and stronger. 

And so, Minho was pulled from his status as a lonesome god. Within a generation, stories of the two were created, and people came to love Seungmin just as well. Stories of the dual pillars of humanity spread across the land, and Minho and Seungmin continued on just as Minho had been. Now, though, Minho was asking that people worship him and Seungmin in whatever way was best for them while Seungmin helped the people find their own ways of worship. Their visages were spread by a group of artists who would put to paper the faces of the gods after the two had visited in gentle dreams. Their tales were spread around fires and marketplaces, the elders keeping the stories alive and the bards spreading them even further, until even those in other countries were relying on the two. The stories in those places soon changed, though, and Minho and Seungmin left the care of those people to their alters, the two who'd been kindled into existence by the retelling of stories and changing of names. 

For centuries, Minho and Seungmin were worshipped ceaselessly. But soon enough, the weight of all the wishes pulled Minho and Seungmin into disaster. It was too much all at once, and Minho began to crumble. Seungmin watched and worried quietly, afraid of what might happen if he let it go on. When Minho began to collapse even in their small shrines, Seungmin knew it had to stop. And so, in the eyes of dozens of worshippers, he urged Minho in the softest of voices to let the people go. He was stretching himself too thin. It was this that first crumbled the trust of the people as well as kindled the story of their marriage. They started as mere lovers, and a romantic few insisted that as they'd supported humanity for so long, they must've had a wedding of divine proportions some time ago. 

And so they had. They improvised even as the people stopped trusting them despite that Minho continued to grant their wishes as he had with that very first woman. Seungmin was draped in finely-woven fabrics the color of spider silk, sashes of pastel blue and pink, and strings of silvered lace. Jewels sparkled in his rich, coppery hair, and his eyes were made brighter by the gold dusted upon them. The greys and golds were soft upon him. Minho was in harsher colors, the darkest of ebony and the brightest of metals, but his eyes were no harder than Seungmin's own. His hair was woven with strands of silvery threads made by the villagers, and thin lengths of metal wound about his bare arms. They were made soft and pliable by the heavenly power seeping from his skin, just as the jewels in Seungmin's hair were brightened in the same way. Both were barefoot during their wedding amongst the field of flowers, the only attendees being a few minor gods of blessings and marriage and the last few believers in the village. It was one of the happiest moments of both their lives; it was the marker of the beginning of their decline. 

In the time after, as they grew weaker and less loved, Minho continued caring for the last of their people. Seungmin stood by his side, helping Minho to walk in their dreams. It became one of their greatest joys to talk to the people in that way. The believers dwindled as Minho did his best to focus only on those most dire of cases. And yet, Minho and Seungmin were happy. They had each other and the small group of followers that kept their stories alive. Yes, the true belief did fade into historical interest. Yes, they _were_ seen as selfish gods in later years. But it was okay. Their last worshippers held onto the talismans, ancient things passed through families as their popularity declined. Many had been lost and countless others were broken intentionally, an act of rebellion against Seungmin's insistence that Minho stop trying so hard to help everyone at the cost of himself. By that point, even Minho himself could no longer remember what he'd been before he granted that very first wish. But it was okay, truly. He'd never been happier than he was with Seungmin: even without a name, there was nothing that could've brought him more joy than being with his other half.

So was the legend of the pillars of humanity. It started with a wish and ended with crumbling shrines and a pair of gods left to rot in the dust. Seungmin had always been more tenacious than to let them fade away, though. And so, they hung on with a will that not even the threat of death could shake.

The details fade as I break through the surface of my dream. I wake slowly, confused as I stare about the room. Everything looks strange, not quite right. I realize that, somehow, I've suddenly become unused to the present. _Just what did I dream about_ , I can't help but wonder. I shake my head and rub my eyes, placing my palm over the bone talisman resting against my chest. It's an ancient thing given to me by my grandmother. Out of all her children and grandchildren, she'd chosen to give it to me. I still don't know why. I carefully wrap my fingers around the back of it as I slide out of bed, the floor cold against my feet. It's a gentle, sleepy kind of morning, one that takes a while to really wake up from. Everything is draped in softness, the colors a little blurry and the lights a little warmer, a little kinder. Even the air tastes sweet, somehow, and I wonder what's so special about this morning. My mother is no softer as she sets a bland plate of breakfast in front of me, and my father is no warmer as he brushes past me to go to work. Even still, they cannot shatter the cloak of quiet anticipation over the day. 

Second semester ended just a few weeks ago, the coolness of spring fading into the warmth of summer. There's nothing much to do, so I do what I have been since I returned home: I dress in comfortable clothes and walk towards the countryside, intent on wandering until the sun fades out of the sky. I let my feet lead and my mind trail after whatever thought takes my fancy. Past the woods where I found the ruins of an ancient estate, beyond the babbling brook where I found the scuffed silver ring. I crest a hill and walk down into a field of flowers, one I somehow have never found before. I don't quite recognize any of the flowers beginning to brush against my ankles. I stand motionless as I stare over the field, thinking. After a while, I crouch down and unlace my boots. This place doesn't feel like somewhere I should wear shoes, almost as if I'd just walked into someone's home. I shove my socks into the brown boots and wander into the field, mindful to keep from crushing too many flowers as I make my way farther in. That, though, is the only thought I really keep in place. _Don't harm the flowers if I can help it_. It's a small but insistent thought. Somehow, in this field, every other thought melts away. The knowledge that my better than excellent grades in college aren't enough to curb their disappointment in and anger towards me for the summer of "selfish indulgence" dissolves like embers in the wind. Their general indifference towards me and the dull ache it brings to my heart is soothed into a quiet acceptance. 

It feels right, somehow, when I find the crumbling shrine of stone. It's little more than a pile of rocks now, and there's no telling who the shrine was first dedicated to. And yet... some instinct drives me to start righting stones and rebuilding little pillars. There are only enough rocks for two stubby pillars rising no higher than my knees. I set a long, flat stone I find tumbled off to the side atop the pillars. The two squared-off rock pillars I set behind the stacked pillars, but the long piece that went on top of them had fallen and cracked into two pieces some time ago. I puzzle over what to do for a long while, staring forlornly at the two pieces in front of me. I sigh and run my hands through my hair in frustration, falling back into the flowers. There's a soft noise somewhere between a crack and a click, and I almost lose all hope, thinking it'd broken again somehow; when I sit up, though, I find that the stone beam has fixed itself back together. The crack is still there, but only barely. My hands shake with anxiety as I carefully set it atop the taller pillars, and I heave a shaky breath when I have it safely atop the pillars. I step back carefully, walking back around the front of the shrine. Something brings me to kneel in front of it, the bone star warm even through my shirt. 

_"When you are in need, Jeongin, find a shrine in a gentle place and make a wish,"_ my grandmother had once told me. It was long before she gave me the strange talisman. Even up 'til now, though, I still haven't wished. It's not that I don't trust her or was ever skeptical of her words. From a young age, I'd been raised more by my elderly neighbors than by my parents, so I carried in my heart the promises of old gods that were sworn to speak back more often than the God of Christianity. It was another reason my parents held so much disdain for me. 

It is with a long, slow breath that I close my eyes and make a wish for the very first time. It's stupid, but the only thing I can think about is how lonely I am. Surely I'll tire of my wandering soon, and I can only last so long in the stress of college with only my in-class friends. Everyone from high school is far away and busy with their own lives, too busy to really talk with me anymore, and Hyunjin has been strangely absent since school got out. My voice wavers slightly as I wrap my hand around the talisman once more and whisper into the warm, sweet air, "I wish I had a boyfriend." I'm not quite sure if I mean it, and I half-doubt that anything will come of the wish anyways. Time has worn down the belief of a childish heart the way it always seems to do. I keep my eyes closed and my hand tight around the old necklace as I wish once more, silently, for the same thing. With a soft crack and the clashing of stone, the shrine collapses. My eyes fly open just in time to catch the flat stone breaking in two along with the beam on the taller pillars, and I sigh as the small cloud of dust settles once more. The talisman cools as I stare sadly at the pile of rubble, all that's left of the little shrine. I didn't even have any time to offer anything to whoever might've been listening, so I really do doubt if my wish will be granted. I _tsk_ at nothing and stand up, dusting off my shorts. 

I can't seem to really move for a while, staring at the ruined shrine and the strange, beautiful flowers surrounding it. There's an inexplicable sense of loss lingering about my heart, but that same feeling from this morning hangs over the field and slowly smooths the loss into another quiet acceptance. Eventually, somehow, I become aware of another presence in the field. 

"It was a lovely shrine," someone says softly. I startle and turn around, finding the copper-haired man who'd spoken. His eyes hold an undeniable warmth. "Thank you for trying to fix it, even if it did fall again. No one's been out here for a while." I nod awkwardly, unsure of what to say. His eyes, the color of dark syrup, drop to my feet, and he smiles softly as he looks off to the side. "Most people wear shoes here, disrupt the flowers."

"Ah, yeah. It just felt wrong to wear shoes farther than the hill back there," I say quietly, pointing to the hill far behind him. The man doesn't react, just looks back towards me as he nods slightly. The silence that falls over us is comfortable. 

"What did-"

"My name-" 

We both freeze up as we talk at the same time, and then he breaks into giggles. I do too, and the tension fades. He looks up, eyes sparkling with mirth as his lips fail to stay straight. His cheeks are dusted with a blush. I gesture for him to talk first, and he breaks into a bigger smile. 

"What did you wish for," he asks, voice expectant but gentle. I blush in embarrassment and run a hand through the hair at the back of my neck. It's getting long; I should probably cut it soon. 

"Ah, it's kind of embarrassing," I mumble. He keeps his hands folded behind his back, gentle and open to whatever I feel like giving him. "Company, basically. It really boils down to me wishing to have some... company." His hair shines like real copper in the muted sunlight, his smile brighter than the late-spring sun. 

"That's a better thing than most people would wish for. There are many greedy people in the world who would ask for something like money or revenge," the man replies. He's silent for a moment before, "I think it's a lovely wish." I blush even more, strangely flustered by such a cute guy saying something like that. 

"Thank you," I breathe out, hardly able to speak the simple words any louder than a breath of wind. "My name is Yang Jeongin. What's yours?" 

"Yang is an old name, isn't it," he asks quietly, seemingly ignoring my question. I half-shrug, and he smiles despite the half-assed answer. "My name is Kim Seungmin. It's nice to meet you, Jeongin." His eyes catch on the talisman, but he says nothing. He just smiles. "Did you have any plans for today? You're... interesting." The hesitation had sounded more contemplative and curious than anything. 

"If you want to... we can just wander out here for a while longer. That's all I was going to do," I tell him. He smiles as he cautiously holds out a hand. 

"It feels nicer to hold hands with someone, especially here. No one should be alone in this place; at least, that's just my opinion," Seungmin says quietly. I nod and carefully take his hand, wrapping my fingers over the edge of his hand. His hand is a little chilly, like he's got bad circulation, but his fingers are soft. He leads me deeper into the field and it almost feels like time has stopped completely. For the longest time we just sit on a hill and stare at the sky, at the constellations inexplicably in view overhead. Despite being unable to explain it, the odd phenomenon doesn't feel wrong. I just sit there in a field of sweet-scented flowers with Seungmin, hands just brushing each other in the grass as we stare up at something impossible. Seungmin spends the time telling me the stories of all the stars he can name, of the beliefs that were once behind them. 

When the sun finally begins to set, I climb to my feet and walk back to the hill where my boots still sit, past the fallen shrine. Seungmin follows, waiting until I have my boots back on before saying goodbye. He catches the ends of my fingers and squeezes gently, a smile like a promise on his lips. He stands on the hill, waves when I look back and see his silhouette still there. A few minutes later, when I look back again, he's gone.


	2. I found myself within a shadowed forest,

The only reason I don't go wandering the next day is because we're running dangerously low on food; that is, all the food I eat is gone because my parents eat at restaurants and leave me to make my own food every day (excepting the days my mother randomly decides to cook me a breakfast that always comes out cold), all of which I've bought with my own money. The day feels slow, and the light drizzle is strangely irritating. A cold breeze blows the rain right into my face, and the situation fits the general mood of vague upset surprisingly well. I've not even been awake for an hour and it's already making to be a shitty day. But, of course, it gets worse when I get to the grocery store and get the one cart that's notorious for having fucky wheels. There are countless bags of chips and other random snacks scattered throughout the different aisles, obviously discarded by people who were too goddamn lazy to put them back in their proper places. 

"For fucks' sake," I mutter under my breath as the wheels get stuck on a turn. I shove the cart and it goes all of two inches before stopping again, and I groan and drag my hands over my face and through my hair in frustration. 

"Bad day," someone asks sympathetically. I tense up before turning around and coming face to face with a beautiful man. He has delicate, sharp features, resembling some mix between a cat and a rabbit. I swallow and look to the floor, nodding. He walks closer, keeping a polite distance while his eyes fill with a gentle warmth. His face stays icy and aloof, but it doesn't feel off-putting. 

"Yeah," I say quietly. "Yesterday was a really nice one, so waking up this morning and being forced to come buy food was shitty. The rain wasn't bad, but it was irritating enough, y'know. Stupid fucking cart, dumbasses being too lazy to put shit where they got it from, I- I'm sorry, I don't why I'm piling all this onto you. Uhm, I should probably just-" The stranger smiles, something soft and understanding. It melts all the ice of his features and lets what must be his true personality shine through. 

"No, it's okay. I get it. Sometimes people just need to rant to whoever will listen. Really, I don't mind listening to you," he says. I blush profusely and look away, clearing my throat awkwardly. He walks past me and crouches down near the wheel. I watch him curiously, my cheeks still warm. He jiggles the wheels at the front a couple times before standing up and using a light grip on the end of the cart to pull it forward a few inches before pushing it back. "I think I got the cart fixed. One less thing to fuck up your day, right?" I kind of gape for a moment, taking a few steps forward to test the cart myself. I gape even more when it works perfectly, not a single stop in the wheels. 

"How-" He just smiles and shrugs, putting his hands in his pockets. 

"I'm Lee Minho. If you ever wanna rant to someone again, I'm usually in here or in the thrift store with the antique shop tacked on the back." He backs away slowly, like he wants to keep staring at me for some reason. It reminds me of Seungmin yesterday, watching me go home after spending the day together. 

"Uhm, wait. Thank you for fixing the cart, Minho. My name is Yang Jeongin." I bite my lip and push the cart a few more times. "I don't wanna drag you around, but uh... after I get my shopping done and take it home--would you want to meet up at the thrift store and hang out for a while?" Minho smiles--no, _grins_ \--so widely that his eyes crinkle up. 

"Yes. Totally! I think it even stopped raining by the time I came in; okay! This is going to be so much fun," Minho exclaims. He's blushing brightly, covering his mouth partially to hide the overwhelming delight. He starts skipping as he leaves the store, and it puts a stupid grin on my face. After that, nothing seems to be able to touch my good mood. The too long line is nothing in the face of the incessant replaying of _Sweet Caroline_ , a song that usually gets me annoyed glares as I add in all the extra noises in my sing-along. My parents' permanent scowls as I come into view glance off my heart like toy arrows. I put the groceries away as fast as I can, giving the barest minimum of answers to my parents before hastily slapping together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and dashing out the door. I barely register my parents telling me they're going out before the door shuts and I'm out of the house. It's a little gloomy out, but the rain really has stopped. I speed walk my way towards the thrift store as I hastily eat, probably posing a danger to myself. 

By the time I get to the store, my sandwich is finished and Minho is waiting outside. I swipe the back of my across my mouth and lick my lips as I brush my hands clear of crumbs on my shorts. Minho smiles and waves me over despite the fact that I've already seen him, but I pretend to have found him when he waved anyways. It's worth it for the stupid grin on his face. He hesitantly locks arms with me as we walk in, and my good mood prompts a giggle to drop from my lips. He jokingly asks for fashion advice as we wander through the thrift store, both of us obviously on the same page as we head for the antique shop. He makes little comments on a lot of the styles used in making various quilts and statuettes as we pass them, really only stopping when I show clear interest in something. He'll answer any questions (almost all of them) I have about the things that catch my eye before quietly setting them in the red basket he'd looped over his free arm. He manages to convince the manager to let him borrow a shopping cart before we head back to my house, cart of trinkets and knick knacks being pushed ahead of us; he'd fixed the wheel on this cart as well, so maybe that had something to do with the convincing. 

He talks to me about how nice my neighborhood is, smiling kindly and waving at all the old ladies and their husbands as we pass. Hyunjin's house is silent and dark, just as it has been for weeks. I'm dying to know what happened, but he's always had his reasons for this sort of thing in the past. When we reach my house, Minho suddenly falls silent. I turn to look at him, and I see that his face has fallen slack.

"Oh," he says softly. He glances down the street, looking at every house on my side of the road. He turns and does the same with the other side. He finally turns back to me. "This isn't where you belong. It doesn't fit you." I look away, my own smile falling a bit to match his expression. I glance at him nervously, halfway upset at suddenly being faced with the truth. 

"Where do you think I belong, then?" He purses his lips and points out the house on the opposite side of the street, two to my right. Old lady Kim's house, one of the ladies who'd told me stories as I grew up. 

"There," he murmurs quietly. "Or..." he searches the street and finally points to another house. "That one." Hyunjin's house. I smile softly. 

"Yeah. Those two sound about right," I murmur in response. He cocks his head to the side, questioning silently. "Just- the first one belongs to an old lady who told me old legends of gods as I was growing up. The other one belongs to my friend Hyunjin, the only other person who's ever really tried to talk to me about... anything significant." I pause for a moment before biting my lip. "Well, before yesterday, I mean." I can't bring myself to say something like _I met someone else_ or _Seungmin listened too_ because it feels too much like rejecting Minho. I don't know what I'd be rejecting him for in the first place, not yet, but I don't want to do it anyways. "But, uhm, I don't know where Hyunjin is, actually. He's been gone since college got out a few weeks ago, so... I'm glad for today and yesterday. They've been the first couple of truly wonderful days in a while. Thank you again for listening and spending time with me." Minho smiles brightly. 

"Of course, Jeongin. It was quite the pleasure to do so," he says warmly. He pushes himself up, bracing his arms against the handle of the borrowed cart. "You made my day a wonderful one as well." He drops down and hesitates, like he wants to do or say something but isn't sure if he should. A glance at the driveway shows that both cars are gone. 

"You wanna help me take this stuff in? The uhm, antique store probably wants their cart back," I say, feeling awkward. I can't think of anything else to say. Minho smiles and nods, pushing the cart down the little concrete walkway to the front door and leaving it there. The front door is locked when I try it, and I grumble under my breath. Thankfully, the spare is under the fake rock around the corner. Minho grabs a few bags and follows me in, glancing sparingly around my house. "Ah, you don't have to take off your shoes, Minho," I tell him as he struggles to get his shoes off with the unwieldy bags hanging from his arms. He looks up, glances down, and then nods before following me once more. He sets the bags on my floor near the ones I'd carried in, and I go back out to get the last few bags. After a moment of hesitation, I use my bike chain to lock the cart to a young tree in my yard before I go back in. I set the bag down and find Minho standing exactly where I left him, hands by his side as he stares out the window. "You good, Minho?" He jumps as I set the bags down and nods, blushing in embarrassment. 

"Yeah. I didn't want to intrude on anything, so I figured... _out the window_ was the best option," he says, gesturing to the window. 

"Oh. I mean, to be fair, I _was_ surprised that you weren't snooping, seeing as that's what most people do." I look out the window and catch a wisp of grey hair flashing by. Hyunjin is back, it seems. I look back to Minho. "But you two... aren't most people. And..." Minho doesn't question who the other person is, just nods. I'm reminded of the way Hyunjin has never snooped either, acting just the same as Minho had when left alone in my room. I walk over to the dresser and grab the key to my bike chain, hanging it off my finger by the carabiner and showing Minho. "Anyways, let's go unlock the chain so you can take the cart back to that lady. My parents are annoyingly particular about guests, and while it'd be worth the headache, today isn't the best day." Somehow, the irritating mood from earlier in the day returns and brings a bout of worry over my parents' reactions when they see a stranger in my room and the inevitable fight that will ensue. 

"Chain," Minho asks as he follows me out. I make a mental note to sweep before my parents get back home and nod. 

"Yeah. I chained it to the tree in our yard so someone wouldn't- oh, cOME THE FUCK ON! GET BACK HERE YOU ASSHOLE!" I take off down the street, chasing after the tween who was currently using the cart as a much faster skateboard-type vehicle. He screeches as I run after him and kicks off the ground a few times to speed up. "YOU DUMBASS, YOU'RE GONNA HIT A CRACK AND END UP IN THE FUCKING ROAD!" The proposed danger registers with the kid and he stops the cart, sheepishly turning it around and pushing it back towards me. He apologizes profusely as I take in the chain still locked around the cart. I glare at him. "Did you- you seriously- I swear to god if that tree is stripped of its leaves, Bang Junhyuk-" I shake my fist at him jokingly, and he bursts into relieved laughter as he runs across the street to his house. "YOU-!" I sigh and turn around, finding Minho walking down the sidewalk towards me. "That kid is gonna get himself hurt someday, I just know it. He's not a bad kid, though, just excitable." Minho nods and thanks me for getting the cart back. After a moment of hesitation and playing about with his fingers around the cart handle, he leans forward and presses a kiss to my cheek. 

"Thanks for today. It was fun and entertaining. I'll treasure my memories of it for a long time." His timid smile as he says that is enough to bring my mood back up, and I watch Minho for a long while before I walk back home. I put my key in my pocket before realizing I never unlocked the chain. 

"MINHO, WAIT!"


	3. for I had lost the path that does not stray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by the way, i will explain what Hyunjin has been doing if someone requests it,, otherwise i'll just leave it be and be satisfied that i know myself

"Do you always wander in beautiful places?" I jump at the sudden voice behind my shoulder and turn a bit, catching a flash of Seungmin's coppery hair before he dashes to the other side, giggling. I shrug, a little smile on my face. I look away, refusing to give him attention. "No fair! No teasing," he says, pouting a bit. I spare him a glance, regretting the action as I immediately find myself drawn into his puppy-like gaze. He bats his eyelashes and gently rests his chin on my shoulder, motions unsure and cautious as he wraps his arms around my waist in a light hug. He's expecting to be told off, I can tell.

"You teased first," I remind him softly. He pouts even more.

"I just wanted to see your smile," he simpers, shy and wavering. "You have such a pretty one. All your... your clouds, they clear away when you smile." His voice is quiet as can be. I blush and look towards the ground, kicking a pebble in the trail.

"Ah," I respond awkwardly, one of those croaking replies when there's a little too much emotion to figure out what to say. "Uhm, your question earlier..." He cocks his head to the side, the picture of an innocent puppy. I blush even darker because seriously, _How is it possible for someone to resemble a dog so much?! God, he's so cute._ I cover my face a little and look to the side. "Well, I usually just wander in whatever direction feels right. I guess I tend to gravitate towards beautiful-" (and I mean to say places, I really do, but--it's just--at that moment I think of Minho, eyes crinkled up in an ecstatic grin after I asked him to go to the antique shop with me; I think of Seungmin smiling softly with sorrowful eyes as he tells the tales woven into the origins of the stars, so excited to tell these stories despite being saddened by their decline) "-people." Half a second later, I slap my hand over my mouth and jump away from Seungmin, blushing even harder. I crouch down and cover my face, peaking out of the cracks to stare into the dark woods. The canopy is so thick that only a few stray beams of light filter down to throw dappling on the ground, and some of the mosses and mushrooms, for a reason I don't understand, are glowing softly. It's not really dark enough here for phosphorescence to naturally evolve, but then again--

"Jeongin? Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?" Seungmin's voice is gentle and audibly concerned. I bet I could hear him swallow nervously if I listened close enough. The entire world seems to have gone silent, as if it's waiting for my answer; not even the wind is blowing. I swallow thickly and fall onto my butt, crossing my legs and dropping my hands to my lap.

"Sorry, I-- I'm fine," I say quietly. He walks a bit closer, kneeling down a few paces behind me. He keeps his hands to himself this time, clearly trying to respect any barriers he might conceive have just been erected. "I--" a cringe makes its way through my face, pulling at my lips and twisting my expression this way and that "--I'm awkward, as you can probably tell by now. I don't really ever know what to do around _people_ in general, but-- people like you, that's--" I break off, laughing bitterly. "People like you are so much harder to talk to."

"Who are people like me," Seungmin asks softly. I dig my fingers into the ground, glad at the very least that he doesn't sound offended.

"Just--" I groan and pull my fingers from the dirt, frowning at the dark semi-circles at the ends of my fingernails. I took a shower this morning too.... I sigh softly. "Just, people who are genuinely kind and concerned. Pure-hearted people who'd throw themselves in front of a bullet for strangers. People who are so earnest they can hardly tell a lie without feeling sick to their stomachs." My mouth gets dry, and I take a moment to swallow thickly once more before looking back at him. Tiny tears are beading up along his waterline, getting caught in the midst of their fall by his pretty lashes. "People who, during fights or problems--whether they caused them or not--ask not if they did something wrong, but what they can do to fix it."

* * *

  
"I'm glad to see the tree is growing well." I only jump a little this time, slowly becoming more used to surprise visits like this; considering how often Seungmin and Minho sneak up on me, there's really very little else that should logically happen. Minho smiles at me, walking over with his hands behind his back before he stops next to me, leaning towards the tree as he thoughtfully observes it. He hums softly after a moment, pleased as he nods to himself. "Yes," he says, stray strands of his short, black hair dancing in the wind, "the bark has healed over quite nicely. Even the leaves are looking nice and full." His half-serious expression cracks as he bursts into laughter and braces himself on his knee, covering his mouth as he laughs. He even snorts a few times before popping back up, brushing his hair to the side; I watch--somehow entirely enamoured by stupid, simple things--the whole time, my cheeks burning red. He turns his mirthful gaze to me and bursts into a little half-grin. "Really though, I'm glad it's getting better." I smile back, more flustered than I care to admit.

"Yeah. Junhyuk came by and apologized to it a few days ago too, so I didn't have to chase him down again." Minho smiles and looks across the street for a moment, watching the silver ferret dashing around through the bushes. It's wild, I think, one I've seen a few times in brief moments not quite like this one.

"That's good," he murmurs. He turns to me and holds out a hand. "I wanna show you something. Will you let me?" I stare at his hand, a lot more pensive than I've been a while. After a few moments in which Minho holds out an unwavering hand, I take his hand. He leads me out of my yard, down the street past Hyunjin's street. The griset's curtains are drawn, and I catch a glimpse of his silvery hair as he bustles about in his living room, but we've moved beyond his house before I can catch his attention and wave.

Minho leads me out of town, towards the fields and the forests. We delve deep into a section of the forest that I've never been in, the darkest part of the forest--its heart. Every time I'd come close to this place on my own, I'd felt unnerved and scared, so I'd left. Now, though, Minho has his hand pressed into mine, and it feels like nothing in the world could harm me. Well-- except for the thorns on that blackberry bush just now. But, really, I feel no fear with him. The forest gets darker and cooler, almost like we're descending into a cave, until we finally enter a clearing in the forest. The trees and rocks are dotted with the same, odd, glowing mosses and mushrooms I saw the other day. On the far side of the clearing is a little pool of water, about twice Minho's height either way; because of the low lighting, I can't tell how deep it is. He pulls me closer and carefully sits down right at the edge of it, crossing his legs after taking off his shoes and socks and setting them to the side. I follow suit and sit to his left. There are fish in the pond, something like koi excepting that they glow softly. We sit and stare for a while, almost entirely silent. It's impossible to tell how much time has passed or what time it is. Minho is the one to break the silence.

"You know, Jeongin, people like you are my favorite," the noiret says softly, his hair only visible against the backdrop of pitch black because of the glowing flora and fauna. I imagine my hair must be doing the same. I swallow shallowly and glance at him, but his eyes are fixed upon the koi pond.

"What kind of people... exactly?" Minho lolls his head to the side, smiling lazily at me. His eyes are darker than dark, but they're no colder than the summer sun itself.

"People who put their all into everything they do. People who consider and think and _listen_ , whether to themselves or to those around them. Those kinds of people... they're hard to get to know at times because they try not to burden others, but once that worry, that barrier is gone, they--" His smile-- "--bloom." --bursts wide-open, like one of those flowers that only blossom under specific conditions, the ones that are hard to find and harder to see. He looks back to the little pond, still smiling like the most wonderful thing just happened to him. His eyes shine in the face of the natural light the fish give off. "People who you can't know upon first sight, those it takes time to love," he murmurs, peeking at me with a suddenly coy smile, "Those people are most worth it."

* * *

  
"So, what've you been getting up to," Hyunjin asks as he bustles about his kitchen, cooking something pink and frothy in a cast-iron pan on his oven. He takes the whistling kettle and pours something... purple into the pan? The details aren't really important because honestly, I'm not even really watching him. I'm staring into space, my thoughts practically dogpiling each other over the chance to be spoken aloud to my long-time friend.

"Uhm," I respond intelligently. Hyunjin bursts into giggles and whirls around to face me.

"Oh, wow," he says, genuinely shocked. "You really are out of it, huh?" I nod absently, and he _tsks_ at me before hurriedly picking up his pan and pouring _whatever it is_ into a mason jar which he seals with a lid and decorates with a pink square of fabric over the top and a slim, purple ribbon to hold the fabric in place. He walks over to me, pulling me out of the stiff, wooden chair and leading me to his living room, where he sets the jar on a shelf and deposits me in an armchair. "Okay, it's obviously big. Are you good to share it yet, or are your thoughts doing that thing where they ram into each other incessantly?" I slowly lift a hand, parallel to the ground, and rock it back and forth a bit. Hyunjin nods and kneels down by my feet, rubbing little circles into my forearm as he looks up at me. It's something he's done to help calm my thoughts for as long as I can remember, looking just like this.

I absentmindedly pull him off his knees and murmur, "You don't have to kneel for me, Seungmin." Hyunjin, to his credit, doesn't react much. It's this that releases the floodgates. "I was wandering 'cause I was bored, what with you being inexplicably absent and me having no other friends, and I found this field with this old shrine made of stones. I rebuilt the shrine and made a wish because it just, it felt right? And then it crumbled, and I stayed there for gods know how long before... Seungmin. He's so pretty, gods, he's got coppery hair and the warmest eyes you've ever seen. And he's, he's kind and warm and he tries to listen and respect barriers, and he worries about me before himself, and it just-- I don't know how to deal with that! And then there's Minho, but he's this dork with the biggest grins, and he takes me to these weird little places. He didn't even snoop around my room! He--they--both of them are just... they're the realest people I've met since you first walked over to me on the playground. The weirdest thing is..." I trail off, my hand coming up to gently clasp the bone talisman in gentle fingers. It feels ancient, as it always has, and precious, _as it always has_ , but it's-- it's different now, too. Like it has a greater significance. "When I feel lonely," I whisper, not daring to look at Hyunjin despite that my grip must be getting too tight around his elbow, "I wish they were there. I wish they were with me, either one of them, _both_ of them. It hasn't even been but a few weeks, but they just-- they make me feel welcome and loved, like you do. I don't know what to do, Hyunjin." My oldest friend smiles kindly at me and pulls me to my feet for a hug, but he's cut short by the ring of his doorbell and soft knocking on his door. He waits a few moments before letting me go, walking to the door with a stern expression.

"What are you-- oh?" I can only see Hyunjin, the wall between the living room and the front door blocking my view of whoever might be at the door. Hyunjin's silver-grey hair is pulled half-up into a bun at the back, the rest of his hair left to hang around his shoulders; I'd done his hair earlier while I was still lost in thought. The people who come in sport hair short enough that they couldn't do something like that with their hair, although Seungmin's coppery locks are getting close to being long enough for a short ponytail. Minho's is still longest on top, where it falls over to the side and across his forehead, and my own is long overdue for a cut. Minho and Seungmin look towards each other nervously; I can almost see the silent words passing between them. "I didn't expect to see the two of you at my front door of all places. What brings you here?" Minho and Seungmin break off from staring at each other to send conspicuous glances at me, and Hyunjin follows the looks. His face scrunches up in realization and confusion, and he finally nods before closing the door. "As you will, then." The visitors take a few hesitant steps closer to the living room before stopping just before the room. Hyunjin rolls his eyes at them and grabs their wrists, pulling them along with him. He pushes them onto the couch next to each other, and they gravitate close enough that their legs touch. I can tell that it's a natural reaction.

They look bashful, flustered, yet unrepentant all at once. Seungmin fidgets with his hands and bites his lip, and Minho looks out the window, resolutely stopping himself from snooping in Hyunjin's absence. A younger me had definitely pulled the room apart the first time I came in, looking into every nook and cranny and nearly getting my toes gnawed off by Hyunjin's ferrets. Hyunjin reenters the room and casually plops into my lap, draping his full body length across the arms of the soft chair. He's clad entirely in black, and it's near impossible to forget how long and lean he is when his clothes cling to his body, said body using your lap and seat as a personal lounge. It is his house though. He takes a sip of the hot chocolate in his mug before handing it to me, his eyes glinting. When he lolls his head to the side to look at me, just as Minho had a few days ago, his eyes are sharper, glinting with a mischievous spark that borders on malicious. He looks back to the couple--cause they _are_ a couple, I realize as I look at them, so completely comfortable around each other (how did I not notice the matchings before now?)--and smirks, propping himself up with an elbow.

"I had a suspicion about who 'Minho' and 'Seungmin' were when he was telling me what he's been doing, but I just kept thinking... there's no way. Surely not. But, lo and behold, it really is you... Tell me, Jeongin," Hyunjin says, turning his attention from the now-visibly-nervous pair to me, "what do you remember about the stories you were told as a child? Any specific ones stand out?" I furrow my brows, confused by the question but considering it all the same. Hyunjin always has a reason. My hand creeps up to the talisman around my neck, and he looks pleased.

"...the connection," I finally manage. The pair on Hyunjin's couch look like deer in the headlights, their eyes are so big. "The bridge. The cold god. The god of wishes and watching." I swallow thickly and look to Minho and Seungmin. My lips feel dry and chapped suddenly; they're always like that, but the sensation rushes to the forefront all of a sudden. "The..." I'm not sure I have the courage to say it. I wrap my fingers more firmly around the old talisman, feeling its age as the hard edges dig into my fingers. "The Pillars of Humanity. The Heavenly Pair. Those who never left, even in the end, still upholding their promises and traditions and attending to those who still believed." Tears spring to my eyes at the thought of the story, the dream. Hyunjin nods gently, wiping away my tears before he hauls himself out of my lap. He reclaims his hot chocolate before sending me into Minho and Seungmin's laps.

"We're sorry for lying about this, but--"

"If it's about being married, that's okay. As long as you're both okay with it, I don't mind. If it's about being literal _gods_ , I don't mind that either. I grew up believing in you; it'd be more disheartening to think you were and then find out you really aren't, I think. Nothing is worse than childhood belief being obliterated like that." Minho snorts and Seungmin starts to run his hand through my hair.

"As if we'd crush the heart of such a goddamned _spectacular_ person, let alone one we love." There's silence for a moment, and Seungmin sighs. "Well, shit. That was a bit fast, I'm sorry, uhm--" I cover his mouth with my hand and smile softly at him, trying to reassure him that it's okay.

"I've never been the best with pacing things either; hell, the first time I met Hyunjin, I decided he was my new father. He vehemently denied and insisted he was the wine aunt." I snicker at the memory, and suddenly something dawns on me. I whip around to stare at the griset, once more lounging in his armchair. I only get as far as opening my mouth before he interrupts.

"I'm a witch, Jeongin. I wondered for a while why you never asked me, _Hey Hyunjin! Why don't you age!_ , but you never asked, so," Hyunjin says nonchalantly, shrugging after his impression of a younger me. "And, yes, I _do_ know more gods. One of them is dating a friend. They have another boyfriend too. They're cute together just like you idiots." Hyunjin snickers at the cries of outrage.

"Well then," I murmur quietly. Minho nods sagely, peeking a glance at me with one half-opened eye a moment later. He breaks into a smile instead of laughter this time.

"Well, Innie, do you have any more wishes," Minho asks. I shrug and stare off into the distance.

"Kinda wish college wasn't so hard, but that's not a real problem. Not a serious one, anyways." I lean back and stretch out over their laps, a little uncomfortable until Minho shuffles farther down the couch so that my shoulder blades are against his legs. Seungmin takes to rubbing gentle circles into my thighs just above my knee, and Minho reaches out a hand. I take it in mine and rest both our hands against my stomach. "Maybe... I wish I didn't have to deal with my parents anymore." Minho smiles above me.

"Easy. We can arrange that, and don't worry! It's not moving in with us," he says. Hyunjin snorts and mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like _as if you two even have your own house_. Minho rolls his eyes and smiles brightly. "Before the day is over, you'll have a house in the field free of bills with an-- with-- you'll never run out of food. I'm really good at this sort of thing, trust me." He smiles so brightly it's hard _not_ to believe him.

And so, the legend continues with a wandering boy, finally anchored by the crumbling yet ever-present pillars that had held up humanity for countless centuries.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on twt @sunwooseok_
> 
> open to requests, pls comment ur thoughts!


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